I am The CoffeeCup writing

More than two years later and after 89 posts, I decide to rechristen myself. I am The CoffeeCup henceforth. When I decided to start a blog, I was more excited about the 'finding an interesting blogname' part. Naming always fascinated me...be it for my dogs, my articles, my scribbles, or my son. Never have I been satisfied with the outcomes, either. With the blog too, I went through a lot of options. I don't quite remember how I zeroed in on this one but one thing's for sure, every brainstorming session was accompanied with a mug of coffee. In the 90 posts (this one included, obviously) very few have been penned without sips of coffee.
Coffee was a rather late discovery in my life. I survived fine for 20 years without coffee (save an occassional cup or so at some insistent host's home). They were, I later realised, disastrous versions of this oh-so-addictive drink. It's Chennai that introduced me to coffee. The city of 'filter coffee' or 'filtarr kaaphi' as they say it! Tiny steel glasses filled with steaming frothy coffee was placed inside a small bowl and given. You could pour it out onto the bowl to cool it and sip from it (traditionally that's what is done). The flavour was like none I had known: rich, strong (almost bitter), intense and intoxicating. The first glass and I knew I was in love.
Since then not a day (in my one year in Chennai) went by without a sip of filter coffee. It remains my first love in coffee, but others followed soon. The Cappuchinos, Mochachinnos and Espressos followed. I enjoyed most of them, but didn't quite take to flavour of Espresso. Well, now I am a caffeine addict! And I so love it. I believe people who haven't tried good coffee are definitely missing something in life. (Am sure we all have our favourite must-try things). I don't down cups and cups of coffee every day, it's just that if offered I can never say No. A bad day, a feel-good day, a pleasant surprise, a rainy day, a grey sky, a phone call from a dear one, memories, chit-chat with mom, lazy days, stressed & strained days...anything is a reason for me to get my hot, strong mug.

Somehow the coffee craze stopped with the blog name. When it came to a sign-off name I don't think I even gave it a thought before typing in a shortened and mostly-used version of my name. It was a boring thing to do, I now realise. I like change and those who've been reading me for a while would know how many times I've changed my template. Now it's a rechristening of myself (at least on the blog). The CoffeeCup girl is here, and am liking it. Perfect for the cloudy, misty, lazy weather that I've been waking up to these days.

Grass only looks greener...it's just the weeds growing

Greener, brighter, prettier...life on the other of the fence always looks happier and heartier. It's a feeling most of us get and we follow it up with 'Wish I was there' and let out a deep sigh! Being happy with ourselves, our lives and our surroundings is so easier-said-than-done material. We are constantly trying wear others' shoes and walk their path, that we bruise our legs. It's not just the big things that matter. Finding joy and contentment and taking pride in our little things is also not easy, at times.
The fat want to lose weight, the thin want to add a few kilos/ the long-haired wants a short crop while the short-haired wants lovely long locks/ you get that pretty pink dress and then you suddenly want the sunshine yellow skirt you saw 'that' girl wearing/ the dark-skinned try all tricks to go lighter while the fair-skinned soak in the sun to get a tan/ you order pasta and soon find yourself slurping over the dish on your neighbour's table/ you decide to study Maths 'coz it's what the intelligent do but soon realise Arts is what the smart do/ you so want to grow up and once you're there you so so wish you were still a child...so it goes on. This is the story of my life...and the lives so many of us.
Maybe we should just break down the fence and build a tall wall so that we don't see the other side. Life would be so much more fulfilling and we'd find joy in all the small and big things.

A to Z days...

Mmmm...It's May, it's a Monday, it's a Monsoon-y day, a Memory haunts me, my Maid bugs me. It's a Monday that's a little Mad, a little Moody...and am hoping for some Magic. It's definitely an "M" Day. Have you ever attributed alphabets to days? It happens to me all the time. I have had my L-days, P-days, W-days, R-days, S-days. Can't remember others.

Often I wake up feeling L for Lazy and then I find my entire day revolving around the L-word. I have a Late start, then Lose something, suddenly get Lucky with things but soon dip into Lazy mode and then end up having a hearty Laugh. There are days when I wake up Sleepy, feel Sick, but a Sweet Someone drops by and am Suddenly Smiling and Singing. W-days are great fun coz they start on a Worried note but move on to make Wishes come true, while I enjoy some Wacky moments with my Weird Wild friends over Wine and Whatever!
The P-days swing between Past and Present, and have me swaying between the Painful, the Precious and the Passionate Periods of my life, the People I came across, the Poetry of life plays out in many forms.

May sound strange and stupid to some (that calls for an S-day!) but it does happen to me.

Amazing, amusing world of dreams

Dreams...always fascinated me.I never really knew how it felt to have a dream or never quite understood how one could have conversations, meet people and go through pain/joy while sleeping. I don't remember having a dream until very late in life (I was almost 20 when I had my first dreamy night). I was always amused when classmates and friends shared their dreams, spoke about the fun things they did in their dreams, the lovely people they met and some depressing dreams as well. I listened intently, and waited for my first dream.

When it happened, am not sure I even realised it. Did I wake up in the morning with that wide smile of having finally fulfilled my dream (pun intended)? Am not sure. I don't remember the dream either. That was only a beginning. Ever since, I have had many many dreamy nights. There have been times when I've woken up talking, or laughing aloud, and in one particularly disturbing instance woke up crying and shivering. Dreams often seem so real, like it's there and you're living in the moment. I have often jumped up wondering if I spoke too loud and if my secret would be out, or did I ruin the surprise by blurting it out aloud!

I haven't had the kind of dreams I've read in books or watched in films...where you come across a face you've seen in your dream, or lived a moment that had appeared in your dream. No such magical or mystical dreams...but yes there have been dreams I wished were true. I've met people I longed to meet, I've had conversations I've longed to have, visited places that I wished to. Wouldn't it be nice if there was a way to record our dreams.

Have you had any particularly interesting dream? I'd love to hear about it. Let's have some fun.

A few questions....

It seems to be hibernation time for all. Many of my blog friends are in hibernation, hardly making any notes in the past week or so. And so it has been with me too. It's been a while since my last post. My reasons: some work, a few days of travel, the exhaustion following it, long chats with old friends, heavy monsoon and a confused mind.

I am happy. I had long long conversations with my favourite friends. Different people, different lives, different countries, different backgrounds...but there was so much common in the conversations I had with each of them. It leaves me wondering, and thinking. A few random questions pop up in my mind. I am putting them down here. I'd be glad to know your take on each of them. Sounds weird? Well, I told you my blog was about the random nothings!

- What is unconditional love?
- A husband/wife or a companion or a dog. Who makes life fuller?
- Who do you live your life with: A person you would like to go to bed with or a person you'd like to wake up with?
- Be nice or be honest?
- Should the past be left behind, forever?
- Follow the heart or the head?

It would be great to hear what your mind has to say.

Small, Medium Large...no more. I am Standard Size!

Sorry madam, this is the largest size we have in women's wear. You could try out the men's section for bigger jeans. 
Ouch! That did it. I just wanted to kick him hard and run out of the shop and never look at myself in the mirror. Yes, I have piled on extra kilos (and have been carrying the baggage for a long time now), but am definitely not the Biggest Girl around. I've seen larger sized people in my neighbourhood and at almost every street. Why then am I faced with such depressingly devastating situations!

I am addicted to shopping and have loved the activity of walking into shops, checking out the many beautiful (sometimes hilarious or absolutely absurd) things on display and have never been completely successful in resisting my temptation to buy. I indulge and I love it. But since my maternity days, I have refused to indulge in my favourite passtime. Size does matter to me and moving from the S (small) section to M (medium) to now L (large) has not been the most pleasant of experiences. And definitely not one that I take pride in.

I have more or less survived on the same wardrobe for the past year or two, making an addition only when a special occassion came up and I was required to look a little more presentable than my everyday look: "over-sized kurti teamed with a pair of leggings, hair pulled up into a messy knot, a dash of kajal, and a pair of over-used flats". Not a very impressive sight, and definitely not ME at all. I love my clothes, the colours, the beads, the dangling ear-rings, bright shoes, lipsticks and the many mix-n-match experiments.

Bigger and rounder was not taken kindly by me. And now I see it's not taken too kindly by shopkeepers either. To tell me am bigger than the biggest size the brand brings out....huff..pufff....how could he be so rudely honest! Finally settled for a pair of drawstrings that didn't mention any sizes on it. It's a standard size madam, said the lady at the shop. Great...so I ain't bigger or rounder than normal...am standard size. I am glad to have finally made a buy, but it's been the most depressing, disappointing and disheartening shopping experience ever.

Grandparents...they amaze me

Patience was never my virtue.Surprisingly, when my son came into our lives, I discovered a sensitive, patient and tolerant side to myself, that I had never known before. Everyone from my mother to husband to people who knew the wild, impatient, up-in-flares-for-no-reason me were amazed at my new found calm. And secretly they were thankful for it too. My son wasn't the easiest of babies (not that I know too many. In fact he was the first baby I ever held). Nine months of peaceful life inside seemed to have bored him, for he came out bawling for activity.

He was up and active almost all through the day and night. As the months went by, he learned newer tricks, bettered his tantrums. Unfortunately for him, the magical calm that had taken over my mind disappeared almost instantly. He was now facing a rather intolerant mom who wouldn't take his doings with a smile. Well, I wasn't as bad as I portray myself. But definitely not as (at times almost irritatingly) tolerant as my parents are to their grandchild, who is my son. He often gets away with his mischief because am more amused watching my parents (especially my dad) at their calmest and most patient avatars.

How goes this sudden halo of calm, tolerance and patience shape up in people as soon as they graduate to grandparent status! Being the only child, there was a general misconception among many of my friends that I was a pampered child. Their definition of pampered child: I just had to think of something and my parents would get it for me. I could be at my disobedient worst and they wouldn't bat an eyelid or even let out a frown. I could spend, splurge on anything that caught my fancy and my father would only be proud of me. YEAH RIGHT!!!

I had to spend hours convincing my dad of the genuine necessity of a request I had put forward. I had to have my accounts perfect while handling money. If my tone or actions crossed the permissible decibel level and permitted heights of rebellion...God save me. Today, my son could get away with almost everything except murder. He could refuse food, scream aloud at being put to sleep, insist on playing with all the banned-things (read remote, phone, books), could bawl at dizzying tones for no rhyme or reason, could hit whom ever he picked on.....and my parents would have a very convincing reason for it all. My dad's favourite for anything from cold, fever to temper tantrums to plain mischief is: "It's all because of the climate. It's so hot these days. We ourselves can't take it. Then imagine these little children. They get irritated and restless." Now I know why my son threw my pen out of the window, why he pulled out the neatly-arranged shelf, why he punched my nose and why he broke his toy car...blame it all on the heat.

If, in the right of being mother, you dare to be hard on him (read refuse him to be as mischievous as he'd like to be)....be prepared for another long session on 'the art of parenting with patience'. Wonder why they never took these lessons while bringing up their daughter!

My family rocks!

I have often been asked: "Do you miss having a sibling?" The answer is YES by all means. I have always felt a sense of loneliness, missed having a brother/sister to fight with, share things with, have fun with...and whatever else comes with it. Many a times I've heard people say: "Oh he is so difficult and adamant. He doesn't adjust at all. It's because he's been the only child and had it his way always." OR "She doesn't mingle with anyone, always stays aloof and quiet. This is what happens if you grow up alone, with no brothers or sisters."

I believe that growing up as a single child pushes you to either of the two extremes: an absolute introvert or a total extrovert. Me falls in the latter, and no one would dispute that...am sure! I can't remember when friends and friendships first entered my life, but they were here to stay. I enjoy being with people, love company and always had a huge bunch of friends. I remember my school days, if my parents or anyone said a word negative about my friends, I would be fuming with anger. I didn't know the depth or true essence of friendship then. For me fun meant friends, laughter meant time with friends and if I was down and low, I would again run to friends. Over the years I started respecting, admiring and appreciating my friends a lot more and shared a special bond with each of them. I still do.

In the midst of all this, I somehow ignored family. Family functions, family visits, time with relatives...none of this pleased me. I would turn grumpy at the very mention of it. Spending time with relatives at my ancestral home was never my idea of fun. My heart would still be with my friends, munching popcorn and clapping inside a theatre, or downing ice-creams or just roaming the streets.

Today, more than a decade later, I have begun to appreciate and admire my family too. Does it have to do with my 'motherhood' status. Well, I don't know. One thing I do know is that motherhood has definitely made me respect, admire, appreciate and adore my mother more than ever. The feeling's now spread to the rest of my family too: uncles, aunts, grandparents, cousins and the little ones. Why this sudden love for family! Well, we had a family get together at my mother's maternal home. Almost every member of the family made it to the two-day function. Their spirit and happiness was indeed contagious. I was definitely excited about it, but they were all ecstatic about it.

A few hours with them, and I realised how simple they all are. It's so easy to make them smile and brighten their day. Just walk up to them with a smile, give a warm hug, say hello...and see the sparkle in their teary eyes. They don't make such people any more: simple, straight forward, honest, innocent and full of love. From the youngest member to the oldest, each shared the same spirit, energy and joy in making the day special for all.

Memories of the days bygone, tales from the past...it was a nostalgic trip. We payed respects to our dear departed ones and welcomed the new members. Every word spoken, every story told, every experience shared, every photo shown...had millions of memories attached to it, and stirred a thousand emotions in each of us. It was an emotional rollercoaster ride for all: smiling one moment, teary eyed the very next moment, suddenly bursting into loud laughters and again slipping into an emotional silence. The effort behind compiling the rare and precious moments from our lives and giving us a chance to once again wallow in those memories needs to be lauded.

The two days went by laughing, smiling, playing games, sharing memories, tears and joys...leaving us all with a heavy heart and happy mind. It was time to say g'bye and we left with a promise to come back here again, next year. I am looking forward to being with my family yet again...very soon...And I hope to make up for the years I missed, spread more smiles and love them more.

My family rocks!!!

A little smiley came knocking...

A little yellow smiley visited me this morning and has been by my side ever since. In the form of phone calls from a dear one, messages from crazy friends, chit-chat time with mommy, sharing love and laughter with my little one, a book, a haunting song, moving words, some harmless flirting, playing chef and enjoying my meal...in many moods, many forms, many names...the smiley gave me moments to laugh, rejoice and experience.
Whoever send her to me...love you and thank you. Smiling at your self helps you smile at others too, being happy with yourself keeps people around you happy too.

It's been a pleasant smiley day made happier by people I love, care for, admire and love with a passion. All I miss is having a dog to cuddle, who'd welcome me with a wagging tail and running his dirty paws over me and rubbing his wet nose on my face. The one pleasure I miss. Bow..Wow!!!